Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Liechtenstein and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Robert Wyatt to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Dual Sessions,
Malaria!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deadbeat,
Symarip,
T. Rex,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Sherman,
Kenny Larkin,
Niagra,
The Fortunes,
the Germs,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Second Layer,
Youth Brigade,
Cecil Taylor,
Roxette,
Gong,
Popol Vuh,
Erykah Badu,
Cybotron,
The Smoke,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
Fad Gadget,
Suicide,
Funkadelic,
Ultravox,
This Heat,
Supertramp,
Sandy B,
Sparks,
Ludus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stiv Bators,
Saccharine Trust,
Scott Walker,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hot Snakes,
The Grass Roots,
Outsiders,
the Normal,
Fluxion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tim Buckley,
Grey Daturas,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Halsall,
Fugazi,
The Dead C,
Swell Maps,
Sarah Menescal,
Parry Music,
Crime,
DJ Sneak,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Leaves,
The Durutti Column,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.